


Mountains. Cold. "Let's bring Dorian!"

by D_elfie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dorian hates the cold, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, My First Smut, Oral Sex, Smut, What is Bull thinking?, winter camping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_elfie/pseuds/D_elfie
Summary: Bull takes Dorian on a winter ride (because everyone knows how much Dorian loves the cold)





	Mountains. Cold. "Let's bring Dorian!"

**Author's Note:**

> This started due to a conversation with a friend that included "I'm imagining Dorian sledding, and not being happy about it" and "He would not be happy about ice forming on his mustache"... since I can't draw, I attempted to write that... and it simply devolved into my first (and probably last) attempt at smut.
> 
> I'll apologize now.

“I already can’t feel my toes. Why can’t I just go back to the chalet and lounge by the fire with a nice glass of Antivan red?”

“Because that would defeat the entire purpose of this vacation.” Bull turned to look at him, eye glinting with mischief.

Dorian snorted and rolled his eyes in response. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his grey wool peacoat and hunched his shoulders against the biting wind. He hadn’t listened when Bull suggested he buy a proper parka. Those things were hideous and he refused to be seen in public in such a thing. Now he was eyeing Bull’s down-and-fur jacket with envy as they followed the snowy path towards the sound of yipping dogs. He was sure he was going to lose a toe, or a finger, or maybe his nose in payment for this little “vacation”.

As they crested the hill, Dorian saw the source of the noise. There must have been a dozen dogs barking and lounging near a small wood cabin. Not Ferelden marbaris, no, these dogs were thinner than marabis, though nose-to-tail a similar size. They looked like someone had thought domesticating the local wolves was a sensible thing to do. They had long, thick coats in shades of grey and black. Dorian eyed them suspiciously, waiting for one to turn and attack as they approached. They eyed him back which just added to his unease.

A man was strapping a harness on one of the creatures, connecting it to a larger rig with four other dogs already attached. He glanced up at the crunch of snow under boots.

“Bull! You made it. We’re almost set for you.”

“Thanks for doing this for us, Blackwall. I really appreciate it.” Bull held out a mitten-clad hand. Blackwall took it and they shook. The only noteworthy thing about Blackwall was… actually, there was nothing noteworthy about Blackwall. He had the bushman look down to a T: dark shaggy hair that blended into his bushy, unkempt beard and a well-worn fur coat. Not the high-end furs Dorian wished he was currently wearing, no, this looked like something he had killed and skinned himself. A bear, perhaps.

“This is Dorian. Dorian, this is Blackwall.” Dorian eyed the dogs near Blackwall’s feet as he stepped hesitantly forward to shake the man’s hand. The grip was crushing. Dorian couldn’t decide if Blackwall was starting one of those macho grip-strength competitions or if he truly didn’t know his own strength. Erring on the side of caution, he didn’t engage and extricated his hand from the vice at first opportunity.

“A pleasure to meet you, Blackwall. Such a warm and inviting home you have here.” Bull elbowed Dorian to tell him to behave. Dorian shot Bull a look, rubbing his bruised hand. Blackwall didn’t respond, continuing to speak with Bull.

“I’ve packed enough supplies for you and the dogs to last three days. There’s a crossbow in there as well, so you can hunt if you find game. I know it isn’t your preferred method, but the dogs aren’t fond of guns.”

“Nah. S’all good. Crossbow works fine for me.”

As Blackwall spoke, Dorian’s eyes grew large. He looked between the dogs, Blackwall and Bull. Three days? Hunt? Crossbow?

“What…exactly are we doing out here?” He narrowed his eyes at Bull.

Bull flashed him one of his large, goofy grins in return. “Bonding!”

Dorian groaned. He knew he should have stayed at the chalet.

“Perhaps a bit more information, if you please. I’m trying to decide whether or not I should use that crossbow on you.”

Bull laughed.

“Isn’t it obvious?”  He gestured at the dogs and a wood-and-hide sled Dorian hadn’t noticed before. “We’re going camping… via dog sled!”

Bull seemed much too excited. Dorian eyed the sled dubiously. He seriously doubted that thing would support Bull, let alone the both of them. And how were eight dogs supposed to move two grown men? The whole outing seemed ludicrous. Dorian turned back to look at Bull and saw how happy he was.

“Fine.” Dorian huffed. “But I’m not sleeping with the dogs. Or chopping firewood. Or skinning whatever unfortunate creature you kill with your pointy projectiles.”

He was scooped into a tight hug, ribs shifting from the pressure. “I knew you’d come around, kadan. You’ll have fun. I promise.”

Dorian’s response drip incredulity, “That remains to be seen.”

 

Sometimes Dorian really questioned Bull’s definition of fun. They’d been riding for three hours and Dorian was bored and frozen. Bull had tucked him in near the supplies, in front of the handle of the sled. Dorian was wrapped in a thick blanket, trying his best hide from the wind and snow. It wasn’t even proper snow. Proper snow was beautiful and soft. This was like being pelted with tiny shards of ice. He was sure he had icicles forming on his moustache.

Bull rode the back of the sled, controlling the dogs. The one time Dorian had attempted conversation his words were scattered to the wind. It became a short yelling match consisting mostly of Bull shouting _What?_ He quickly gave up that idea. How the two of them whipping through the mountains in silence equated to “bonding”, Dorian had no clue.

After another hour of watching trees and frozen streams passing in a blur, Bull slowed the sled. They stopped in a small clearing, protected on three sides by large evergreen trees. It would be a lovely place to picnic if it hadn’t been a frozen hell. Bull hopped off the sled, pausing to rub his bad knee, before coming around and removing the tarp over the supplies. Dorian shuffled under his blanket, shaking feeling back into his legs before standing. He wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders, refusing to give up the added warmth.

“You have a choice, put up the tent or feed the dogs.” Bull held out both hands, one clutching a large bag of dog kibble and the other a canvas bag half as tall as Dorian.

It was a hard choice. Dorian was not keen on the dogs but pitching a tent was not one of the skills he had learned during his extensive education. Not much call for a Tevinter heir to put up tents. He looked over Bull’s shoulder at the dogs. They had flopped down almost immediately, resting heads on paws quietly. Much less bothersome than outside Blackwall’s shed. Still, he and dogs rarely saw eye-to-eye. He returned his gaze to the canvas bag in Bull’s hand. How hard could it be to pitch a tent?

“I’ll take the tent. I fear I already smell like hound and I’ve no wish to increase the power of this new eau de perfume.”

Bull leaned in close as Dorian reached for the tent, giving an exaggerated sniff. He hummed appreciatively. “You smell just fine to me.”

The huff of warm breath on his neck made Dorian shudder. He eyed Bull for a moment before snatching the tent and stomping away.

It was the wrong choice. He dumped the contents of the bag onto the snow and stared at them. He dug an arm in the bag, hoping for written instructions. Nothing. He stared at the jumble of rods and pile of cloth. _Okay, Pavus, you can do this. You were top of your class, you won’t be beaten by a tent._

As if fighting with the metal poles wasn’t enough torture, he had to remove his blanket to move freely enough to put up the tent. It took probably twice as long as it should have, but he finally had it. He stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Done.” He said with a satisfied grin, rubbing his hands together to regain feeling in his aching fingers.

“Nice work, ‘Vint!” He turned in time to see Bull drop a pile of wood next to a hole in the snow. Wood? How had he already had time to feed the dogs **and** get firewood? Dorian was really not cut out for this camping thing.

Dorian scooped up his discarded blanket and trudged over to the pile of wood. He set about gathering logs in the snow pit and lighting a fire while Bull tromped back into the forest, disappearing between tree branches heavy with snow. Fire was something he could do. By the time Bull returned, carrying a huge tree trunk, the fire was blazing.

“Thought you’d start the hunting by murdering a whole tree?” Dorian arched a brow.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to sit on the snow. Found you a chair.” Bull dropped the log next to the fire with a soft thud and a billowing of glittering snow.

“Ah… how thoughtful. Now if only you could find me a lovely cottage with indoor plumbing and a large glass of wine.” He settled onto the log, leaning forward to warm his hands with the flames. He felt water run down his jaw and grimaced. There really _had_ been icicles on his moustache! _Maker take me._

“Well, I can’t do much about the first two, but I got you covered on the last.” Bull grabbed a cooler from the sled and brought it over to the fire. He pulled out a plastic wine glass, setting it on the snow followed by a bottle of red wine. Pulling a multi-tool from his jacket pocket, he uncorked it and poured half a glass, handing it to Dorian. “You relax, while I make dinner.”

He had no idea how the wine wasn’t as frozen as he was, but he accepted the drink with a nod and smile. He swirled the deep garnet liquid, watching it catch the firelight.

“Drinking wine from plastic, if only my etiquette tutor could see me now. How far I have fallen.” He took a small sip, pleasantly surprised by the flavour. Dried fig, cloves, and leather. Bull had surprisingly good taste in wine.

Bull grunted at him and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before beginning dinner. Dorian wouldn’t know where to start, but Bull’s movements were sure. He watched him set a pot over the open flames, adding in Maker knows what from the supplies, followed by a couple fistfuls of snow.

“New soup of the day, Herbed Snow?” Dorian drawled, idly twisting the glass of wine.

Bull looked up from where he was peeling a potato, “If you want, I could just grab some of the jerky from the bag and be done with it. I figured you’d prefer a warm, filling meal.”

Dorian raised his hands in surrender, “Quite right. Ignore me. We Tevinters are not made for winter. This Southern cold makes Dorian a grumpy Altus.” He flashed a quick smile.

“What's the matter? Not enough slaves around to rub your footsies?” Bull responded playfully.

“My footsies are  _freezing_ , thank you.” Dorian sniffed.

Bull snorted, focusing on preparing dinner. They lapsed into silence. Dorian stared into the fire, slowly finishing off his wine. He welcomed the familiar warmth that formed in his stomach and fanned out into his limbs. Wine made the cold bearable. 

The sun was setting as Bull ladled hot stew into tin bowls. Dorian clutched the warm bowl gratefully between his hands, savouring the smell. He was always impressed by Bull’s ability to cook an amazing meal just about anywhere. He told him as much. While an extremely confident man, it was clear Bull loved compliments, especially when they came from Dorian. He always lit up and smiled in a way that warmed Dorian’s heart.

Despite having not done much more than sit, Dorian found himself exhausted by the day’s adventure. Or perhaps it was the cold settling into his bones. Setting his empty bowl in the snow, he shuffled down the log to press against Bull. Bull was finishing his second helping of stew and leaned against Dorian for a moment to acknowledge him. Once he’d finished eating, he wrapped an arm around Dorian’s shoulders and pulled him in tight against his side.

“Thanks for coming with me. I know this wouldn’t be your first choice.”

Dorian hummed, nuzzling against Bull’s neck. “There’s a roaring fire. Delicious food. Good wine… and a strong, handsome man by my side. It is almost perfect.”

There was a rumble from deep in Bull’s chest, which sent a shiver down Dorian’s spine. The arm around Dorian’s shoulder slid down to his hip and scooped him into Bull’s lap. He wiggled, snuggling in against his broad chest.

Bull chuckled, stroking lightly down Dorian’s back. “Warming up, now?”

Dorian nodded, offering a quiet “Mmhmm” as he lightly kissed his way up Bull’s neck to his lips. He hovered over them, glancing up through his lashes. Breath warm on his skin, Bull cupped the back of Dorian’s head with a large hand and closed the distance, capturing his lips.

The kiss was urgent and possessive, as it often was with the Qunari. Dorian shifted to find a better angle, arms going around Bull’s neck and legs around his hips. He turned the kiss rough, nipping and biting at Bull’s lower lip as fingernails scraped his neck and scalp.

He broke the kiss, voice husky as he murmured, “Even warmer now.” 

He nibbled along Bull’s jaw, grinding down into his lap. He could feel the bulge pressing against the back of his thigh and moaned. He rolled his hips, dragging his own erection against Bull’ hard stomach. Bull growled, standing with his arms around Dorian to keep him from tumbling to the frozen ground.

“Tent.” He grunted, carrying Dorian over to the structure. Getting into the tent was awkward, and Bull was forced to let him go so they could crawl through the flaps separately. Dorian arched his back to accentuate his assets and put an extra wiggle in his crawl. That earned him a quick smack on the ass, and he squeaked in surprise.

Somehow, Bull managed to maneuvre through the entrance without catching his horns. He grabbed Dorian’s hips, effortlessly flipping him onto his back. He gazed down at Dorian, devouring him with a look.

The pause to enter the tent had removed some of the urgency, and Bull took his time running his hands up Dorian’s sides from hip to heart and then across his chest and up to his neck. Dorian felt fingers pressing deliciously into his muscles, Bull applying pressure to be felt through the layers of clothing. His touch softened as he cupped Dorian’s face in his hands, leaning close, lips almost touching.

“Too much clothing.” He rasped before claiming Dorian’s mouth. Lips crushed together, their tongues battling for entry into the other’s hot mouth. Bull’s fingers worked at the buttons of the wool coat. He gave a small growl as he fumbled, a growl Dorian felt rumble through his chest and down to his groin.

Impatient, he batted Bull’s hands from his coat, breaking their kiss with a gasp.

“See to yourself.” He drawled.

Bull sat back on his heels, head bowed to keep his horns from the ceiling of the tent. He hurriedly removed his parka, tossing it to the corner. Next were boots, then sweater. There was no tease as Bull disrobed. In moments he was naked, all hard lines of muscle and bobbing erection.

Fast or slow, Dorian enjoyed watching Bull. He loved the play of muscles in his arms and chest as Bull moved. Dorian watched as his own deft fingers made quick work of the jacket and scarf. Enjoying seduction, he took his time removing layers, purposefully flexing as he pulled his sweater over his head. He could feel Bull’s gaze on him like a fire. He shivered, a mix of lust and the cold air brushing exposed skin. He moved his gaze over Bull’s body, stopping on his already dripping cock and giving a hungry grin. Tantalizingly slow, Dorian ran his hands down his exposed chest to the top of his pants, popping the button and sliding the zipper down.

And Bull was on him.

“Too slow,” he purred.

Bull’s fingers skimmed down Dorian’s chest, barely touching. Lips and teeth followed, leaving a scorching trail on Dorian’s chilled skin. Bull nipped at his collarbone, earning a gasp in response. He lapped at the bite, tongue drawing soothing circles over skin turning the pain to the warm glow of pleasure.

It didn’t take long before Dorian was whimpering under Bull’s ministrations. He arched his back, mewling in frustration as his hips found no friction. Bull chuckled.

“Impatient, ‘vint.” He took a nipple between his teeth, biting lightly and flicking his tongue across the hard bud.

“Kaffas!” Dorian hissed, bucking. His hands shot up, grabbing Bull’s horns with tight fists. Bull groaned. Dorian moved his hands in lazy strokes along the base of the horns, using his hold to urge Bull lower. With another groan, Bull relented on his teasing and moved his attentions lower, leaving kisses and nips along the way.

He didn’t stop at the waistband of Dorian’s pants but slid lower, forcing Dorian to relinquish hold on his horns. He yanked first boots then pants from Dorian’s legs in quick succession. Bull ghosted his fingers along Dorian’s soft thighs. To Dorian’s disappointment, Bull ignored the bulge straining his boxers and continued the gentle strokes down along hip bones. He toyed with the edge of Dorian’s boxers, scraping his nails just under the band. Dorian rutted up against Bull’s hands, begging.

“Bull… please…” Tongue darted out, wetting his lips.

“You’re so beautiful when you beg, kadan.” Bull pealed the boxers away slowly, Dorian’s cock springing free. He lowered his body in between Dorian’s legs, shoulders nudging knees further apart, horns hugging his hips. Face poised over Dorian’s cock, he blew small puffs of warm air over the head. Struggling to keep from bucking up, Dorian returned his hands to Bull’s horns and groaned.

Bull took his time. He drew wet lines along Dorian’s cock with his tongue. Pulling the head between his lips, he languidly teased the slit with his tongue.

Dorian whimpered and whined occasionally punctuated by a needy _yes_ or _please_. His hands twisted and stroked Bull’s horns as he writhed, earning throaty growls.

No longer teasing, Bull’s lips wrapped tightly around Dorian’s cock engulfing him in wet heat. Dorian cried out, not able to keep his hips from rearing and pressing himself into Bull’s throat. Bull didn’t pull back or gag, taking all of him with a rumble. The vibration sent more jolts through Dorian and he moaned.

Strong hands slid over Dorian’s hips, encouraging him to move. With shallow strokes, he fucked Bull’s mouth. He could feel Bull swallow every time the head of his cock hit the back of his throat and it made him dizzy.

Bull’s hands moved around to knead the flesh of Dorian’s ass. A callused thumb slid between the cheeks, rubbing small circles over his hole. Dorian’s movements became more fevered. His muscles tightened, a heat pooling in his belly warning him he was close.  

“Bull…” Dorian gulped, swallowing a moan. “Did you bring…” He lost the ability to finish the sentence. Bull sat up, releasing Dorian’s cock to the freezing air. He sucked in a breath, the dramatic change in temperature leaving him gasping. It also helped bring him down from the edge.  

Bull grabbed for the parka, digging in a pocket. He pulled out the lube, having anticipated the end of the sentence, and gave a wolfish grin.

“In your coat pocket? What? Did you think we would just stop in the middle of the day for a quick romp in the snow?” Dorian gave a breathless laugh. Leave it to the Qunari to always be prepared.

“You talk too much.” Bull swooped down, cutting off further comment with a bruising kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues swirled around each other, and both men moaned. Dorian hadn’t heard the click of the lube bottle and exhaled in surprise when an oily finger rubbed along the tight ring of muscles of his hole.

Bull inhaled the gasp, keeping Dorian’s lips pressed against his as rubbed and teased with light strokes. At an insistent moan from Dorian, he slipped one thick finger into him. Bull moved his finger slowly, continuing the tease. The noises Dorian made in response were absolutely sinful. When he could easily slide into the second knuckle, he added another finger. Dorian whimpered, lifting his hips into the thrust of Bull’s fingers.

Crooking his fingers, Bull brushed his fingertips over Dorian’s prostate. Dorian broke the kiss, crying out as lights danced behind his eyes. Bull took his time, savouring every quiver and gasp as he fucked Dorian with his fingers.

Using his grip on Bull’s horns as leverage, Dorian pressed back into each thrust of fingers. He needed Bull to fuck him. “Fuck… Bull.” He rolled his hips on the fingers to accentuate his words. “Fuck me… please…”

All thoughts of teasing disappeared. Bull growled, grabbing the lube with his free hand and squeezed a generous amount along his twitching cock. With quick, expert strokes he coated the length, from head to base. Dorian mewled when Bull’s fingers were removed, a moment later being replaced with the tip of Bull’s cock.

Bull pressed in slowly, gripping Dorian’s hips to keep him from moving. The stretch was almost too much, a heady mix of pain and pleasure that made Dorian tremble. It seemed like forever and mere seconds before Bull was fully sheathed, time meaningless in his lust filled state. He held still, waiting for Dorian’s muscles to fully relax.

 “You good?” Bull asked, voice low and hoarse.

“God yes… please..” Dorian tried bucking, but was met with the resistance of Bull’s strong hands on his hips. “Fuck me…” He whined.

With a grunt, Bull rocked his hips. Slow, shallow thrusts at first, each movement angled to hit Dorian’s prostate. Dorian wrapped his legs around Bull’s hips, digging his heels into Bull’s back in to encourage more movement.

“Fuck, Dorian. You feel so good…” Bull panted.

Even without any attention being paid to his cock, Dorian could feel the tight coil of climax returning. Each time Bull’s thrusts hit his prostate, he’d buck and moan. 

“Uh… Amatus… I’m close…”

Bull moved one hand up to Dorian’s face, cupping his cheek tenderly. He leaned close, brushing lips along the sensitive spot below Dorian’s ear as he murmured, “Come for me, kadan.”

Dorian grunted, wrapping a hand around his cock. Too frantic for deft movements, he used the movement of Bull’s thrusts to fuck his fist. Bull watched him closely as he approached orgasm. Half-lidded eyes dark from lust and lips flushed and shining, Dorian was gorgeous.

Bull’s movements became erratic, as he neared his own climax. As Dorian’s body tensed, squeezing Bull inside him, Bull gave one final stroke angled towards prostate. Dorian cried out, writhing under him.

The tight coil in Dorian’s abdomen released, spilling hot semen across both men’s stomach. Bull grunted, the feel of Dorian’s body pulsing around him too much. He pulled out of Dorian and grabbed his cock in his hand. With two hard strokes, he groaned and came across Dorian’s stomach. Exhausted, Bull collapsed on the ground next to Dorian. He traced a finger through their mingled seed as Dorian slowly came out of the orgasmic haze.

“That… was almost worth the trip.” Dorian purred, running his clean hand through sweat-soaked hair.

Bull huffed. “Almost?”

“Mmhmm. Pretty sure we have successfully had amazing sex without having to add the fear of frostbite to the mix.” With that, Dorian shivered.

“Point taken.” Bull sat up, grabbing his sweater. He used the soft material to clean Dorian’s abdomen and then his own. At the questioning look he received, he shrugged “I brought extras.”

They quickly dressed, Bull throwing the parka on over his bare chest. Darkness had completely taken over by the time they emerged from their tent. Untended, the fire was little more than glowing embers.

Bull wrapped the blanket around Dorian’s shoulders before guiding him back to their seat near the fire. As Dorian settled, Bull tossed a couple logs on the coals, coaxing the flames back to life. Dorian watched him with a contented smile. He would never have to worry about freezing or starving with Bull at his side.

As he contemplated the man he’d chosen to spend his life with, he caught a bright flash of green out of the corner of his eye. Startled out of his reverie, he turned to consider the night sky. He gasped. Undulating over the blue-black of the night sky were lights of vibrant green and yellow. They danced like sunlight through water. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

Bull slid onto the log, wrapping his arms around Dorian and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzled against Dorian’s neck, murmuring “This is why we’re out here. No view like this back in the city.”

Nestled into the warmth of Bull’s body, watching the enchanting light display, Dorian mused. _Maybe Bull’s definition of fun wasn’t so bad after all._  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the bad smut. It was a lot worse before [ Leif ](https://www.fictionpress.com/u/421198/Leif-Roar) got a hold of it and tried to help me fix it. 
> 
> This might, maybe, become longer. I have images of the gang at the chalet and skiing. But for now, it's a one-shot.


End file.
